You Make Me Weak
by zpplnchick
Summary: Draco receives a late-night phone call that brings back old ghosts and past heartaches. DHr one-shot. HP-Epilogue compliant. NEW Epilogue up!
1. You Make Me Weak

Summary: Draco receives a late-night phone call that brings back old ghosts and past heartaches.

Disclaimer: I own neither Harry Potter nor "Lips of an Angel" – those delightful concepts belong to J.K. Rowling, WB and Hinder. The only thing my broke college ass is earning is interest in the bank account.

A/N: Am currently working on a Draco/Hermione story and was suffering a bit of a lull. This came out of nowhere within my bouts of writer's block. It is _not _a songfic, but is heavily inspired by "Lips of an Angel" by Hinder. I know this concept's been beat to hell, but I couldn't resist. The song's a little older now, but never fails to leave an impact whenever I hear it. I suggest you give it a listen if you haven't already.

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><p>March 3, 2004<p>

1:24 a.m.

Draco shifted slightly in the bed, dead set on not waking his bedmate. He looked over at her, her light golden hair reflecting the soft light from the moon. She kept it straight and slick, the ends cascading over her naked shoulder blades.

She was a pretty girl; there was no denying it. His father had been delighted when Draco had announced their engagement – probably the happiest Draco had ever seen the man. It almost killed him inside, knowing that the man grinning widely in front of him had destroyed the best thing to ever happen to him, and only _now_ was he proudest of his son.

But Draco had been raised to weather the storm and uphold traditions for the family. Sacrifices were an everyday ordeal.

His mother had been happy for him as well, but Draco could not hold any contempt in his heart for the woman since she'd only expressed her congratulations after pulling him to the side to question whether the betrothal was what _he_ really wanted.

He was a convincing liar.

The preparations had begun immediately and quickly, Astoria wanting a spring wedding. There was only so much time to prepare for such an event and she'd insisted upon spending every waking moment on it – he had agreed easily, never really taking an interest in the entire affair and therefore not concerned over the particulars.

The wedding was now only a month and a half away.

Suddenly a feeling of utter dread and fury settled over him, leaving him feeling cramped and claustrophobic in the massive bedroom. The black silk sheets covering him now left him stifled and hot, the warm air too constricting, the king size bed too small to fit his lithe frame and his fiancé's petite body.

His heart pumped madly, increasing his adrenaline, leaving him hyper-sensitive to the feel of blood rushing in his ears and the sweat on his body, when suddenly a flash of light across the room caught his attention.

It was on silent and therefore made no noise, but the flashing light might as well have been a beacon, causing the room to sporadically light up, calling him home.

He stealthily escaped the confines of his bed and padded across the room on the lush carpet, very careful to not wake his fiancée.

As handy as the little devices may be, he had still been reluctant in having one. They were a recent invention, taking cue from the devices Muggles call 'cell phones'. He had to hand it to the Weasley twins, for it was an impressive bit of magic. Powered by a variation of the Protean Charm, it acted like a real Muggle cell phone whenever someone needed to reach you, complete with noises, lights and vibration.

Very few people knew the number to his mobile, for he used it mostly for work, but he had a sneaking suspicion who it was calling him now.

He drew in a deep breath and closed his eyes when he picked up the device and found that his suspicions were correct.

"Hang on," he muttered quietly upon answering, making his way to the balcony to take the call outside and away from unwelcome ears, asleep as they may be.

The cool March air greeted him upon stepping on the landing and he welcomed its chill. "Hi," he said after shutting the door.

"Draco," her soft, angelic voice greeted him. He'd heard his name from her lips many times before and had come to learn to easily distinguish every emotion she was feeling, knowing every inflection. He heard tears and his heart broke. Again.

"Honey, what's wrong?" he asked with a whisper, unable to make his voice any louder from the lump in his throat. "Why are you crying? Is everything okay?"

A stupid question, really. The ever-present pit at the bottom of his stomach told him that nothing was okay, nor would it ever be.

"Nothing," she started, her breath hitching. "I'm sorry I called. I don't know why."

He heard the soft whimper in her voice and closed his eyes, clearly picturing the tears rolling down her sweet face.

"Hermione, love, tell me what's wrong."

"I just…" He could imagine her shrugging one shoulder in pause. "I had a dream. About you. It was horrible; I woke up crying."

A horrid pang entered his heart. "What happened?"

"Is she there?"

"She's in the other room, love. She's not here … with us." It was a terrible thing to say, but he felt the need to assure her, his Hermione, that the blonde woman sleeping in his bed was inconsequential in that moment.

A deep sigh entered his ear. "It never happened." His eyebrows quirked in confusion and she elaborated as if she knew the expression on his face. "All of it, between you and me. It never happened." A pause. "I woke up terrified, worried that everything between us was just a figment of my imagination, like if I moved too quickly then you would disappear."

Fresh sobs erupted from her throat and the sound tore through him. "It happened, love." He sighed. "All of it. Every perfect moment that we were together was real."

"And the imperfect moments?" she asked.

He smiled. "Those were my favorites."

He heard her soft giggle and pictured the sweet smile gracing her face, hating that he was unable to hold her.

"I'm sorry, Draco. I shouldn't have called. Especially with…" she trailed off and he knew what she meant to say: e_specially with my wedding tomorrow_. It was the reason he hadn't been able to sleep.

"Where is he?"

"At Harry and Ginny's. Molly insisted on the bride and groom being separated twenty-four hours preceding the event. Tradition, she said."

"He's a fool," he said simply. He wouldn't have let her out of his sight for a minute before _their_ wedding.

"Molly's hard to argue with."

"You're worth it."

She paused, absorbing his words before speaking again, the wretched truth leaving her lips, "I guess we never really moved on, huh?"

"I guess not."

A pregnant pause overwhelmed his senses as he pondered the quiet revelation. It had been a little less than two years since he'd ended it with the girl on the other line. They'd been together for less time than that, but it hardly mattered. The moment he'd first held her hand, he knew that he didn't want to be anywhere else but beside her for the rest of his life and couldn't believe his luck when she revealed the same.

The only thing tainting their entire relationship, besides the undeniable wrath of Ronald Weasley, had been his parents and their unwavering ideals. Tradition, honor and respect had been the staple of their lineage for as long as anyone could remember, and Lucius would rather rot in hell than see his only son deny those ideals. He'd demanded one day that he either end it with Hermione or suffer disinheritance and be completely cut off from his family.

Had it only been about Hermione's lineage, he probably would have. But it went deeper than that.

He had been raised into a certain life and it was his duty to uphold those traditions. He couldn't abandon his family, who were so defeated by the war. His parents, especially his mother, would have been ostracized and made to suffer intense scrutiny from the public for decades following the end of the war. He couldn't let his mother, the woman who'd raised him with love and understanding, suffer such a horrible fate when he had the ability to dig them out of the ground.

So he ended it. Hermione, his sweet, beautiful Hermione had told him through tears that she understood. They had barely spoken since, the only information about her learned through articles in the Daily Prophet.

"Tell me something, Draco. Anything."

Unable to deny her request, he allowed this last brief moment of weakness and spoke the first thing that came to his mind before she was to forever become a Weasley. "Some days I think I can still smell you on my shirts and can't bear the thought of that fading," he said softly. "I have a drawer full of shirts that smell like you and can't bring myself to wash them. Other days, I swear your taste is so fresh in my memory that it's like I just kissed your lips, only to realize that's impossible. Your sweet lips haven't touched mine in two years."

"Draco," she whimpered.

"God, honey, I wish she was you sometimes," he revealed, his form hunched over as he braced his left hand against the terrace railing. "I wish she was you so fucking much that it hurts every goddamn day."

"I know, Draco. I know. Me too."

"Trust me, love. I want nothing more than to gather you in my arms for all eternity and kiss those sweet lips. You have no idea how much I dream about it, the chance to kiss the lips of my angel."

"I know," she whispered, her tears constricting her voice. "I know, my love. I want the same thing."

His eyes squeezed tight, trying to suppress the rare tears forming in his eyes. "Does he treat you alright?" He had to ask – for his own bloody sanity.

"Yes." She sighed and he could practically hear her roll her eyes. "He's a good man, Draco. Just because he isn't you doesn't mean he won't make me happy."

Draco sighed and rested his elbows on the railing. "Good. I- I'm sorry about this, love."

"I know, Draco. I'm sorry too."

"I should go." Another pang entered his heart. He didn't want to say goodbye.

"Okay. I-" she paused, unsure. But then her Gryffindor courage carried her further and she whispered her confession. "I love you."

His merciful heart started beating again. "I love you too, honey," he said softly without guilt. "Get some sleep, okay? I want you to look perfect for tomorrow."

"Okay," she breathed. "Good night."

"Sweet dreams, love."

He shut his phone with a small click and breathed a deep sigh before turning around and quietly entering his bedroom, softly closing the door so as to not make any noise. Only vaguely aware he was of the chill he felt from standing outside in nothing but boxer shorts for an extended amount of time.

Softly, he padded back towards the bed, depositing his mobile back onto his desk along the way, and climbed under the silk sheets.

"Draco?" Astoria whispered sleepily. "What wer- you're freezing!"

"Just nipped outside for some fresh air, that's all," Draco assured his fiancée.

"Everything okay?" she said as she grabbed his hand and wrapped his chilly arm around her waist.

"Everything's fine," he whispered, tucking her against his body. "Go back to sleep."

"Okay."

Astoria thought she felt something wet against the back of her head, but sleep stole her before she could give it any more thought.

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><p>AN2: My first published Dramione! Thoughts?

A/N3: I know she's brunette in the last film, but I'd always pictured Astoria as blonde.


	2. Epilogue

Epilogue

August 15, 2029

9:24 p.m.

"No!"

"Draco, be reasonable," Lucius said thickly, his hand placed menacingly on his cane. For a second, Draco almost backtracked, thinking that his father was actually going to curse him. Then he realized with incredible clarity that he didn't care.

"No. I will not allow you to harm his happiness. He wants her and he will have her no matter what you say."

"I will not stand for it!"

"I don't _care_ what you will stand for, Father," Draco said, quiet fury evident in his voice. He would not be deterred this time. Never again. There was no way in hell his son would suffer the fate he had been subjected to. It was too cruel and he wouldn't allow it to happen at any cost, not when he had the power to do something about it. "He is my son and when I give him my blessing tomorrow, that is the end of it."

"This is about that Mudblood chit, isn't it?"

His pulse racing, all thought left him as with increasing anger he directed it all towards the nearest item close to him, which happened to be his desk that he just bared as he swept all of the items off with force, many of them hitting the adjacent wall and cracking the perfect navy wallpaper that Astoria had insisted on.

"Do not call her that!" he roared, his face red and his eyes terrifying. "I did what I had to do! I did what you wanted from me to save our family and I worked hard to drag us out of the hellish hole that YOU put us in, Father! I don't care if you disinherit me, I don't care if you take away the Manor or the money or anything else. I don't care if I never have a hot meal again in my life—my sole purpose is to my son and I will do anything to make sure you do not fuck up his chance at happiness as you did with me!"

At the confusion, shock, and awareness he saw in his father's eyes, Draco closed his own and spun around, crossing his arms and maintaining a rigid posture as he breathed heavily. He had given too much away and he knew it. For nearly thirty years he had carried his purpose and unhappiness around him like a tiring weight, but he'd just let someone else feel its heaviness and he hated himself for it.

Other than his beautiful Hermione, Astoria was the only person who knew the depth of his feelings and still she carried on with pride and dignity that he was incredibly proud of her for. Being married to a man who you knew was desperately in love with someone else had to be torture and he could never be grateful enough to Astoria for the strength she held within herself for that. She had never let it deter her from raising their son, from caring for their home, or from being a good wife to him. She, like Draco, knew her duty and stuck by him through thick and thin as their marriage vows had ensured.

His mother had her doubts, her suspicions, but as Draco had convinced her when he had first announced his engagement to his wife, he had been able to convince her as adequately since. Puppy love, she thought it was. Young infatuation that you always look back upon with infinite fondness, but nothing substantial, nothing that would affect his life or his relationship with his wife. She was in the dark and he made sure to keep it that way.

But now his father knew. He had tried so hard for so long, and he just willingly opened the window to his heart for his father and invited him to have a long meandering look.

"After all this time, Draco? You've been with Astoria for twenty-five years," Lucius said softly.

Draco tried to ignore his father around the pounding of his own heart but it didn't matter. Nothing mattered anymore but his son and the woman Scorpius set out to marry and live a life with; a beautiful, wonderful, messy life that Draco could only dream of.

"Twenty-six," Draco said quietly as he breathed out a long lungful of air. "It doesn't matter. What matters is Scorpius and he will have what he wants, Father, and he wants her." Draco turned around slowly and stared Lucius dead in the eye. "Do not go against me on this because you will fail. I am not to be deterred this time."

Lucius took a deep breath and with a persistent scowl on his face spoke with soft, hard resignation. The disappointment was rolling off of him in waves but Draco was past caring about gaining petty approval from his father. He knew what was important. If that meant going against the man who had raised him, then so be it.

"I see. Very well," he said as he slowly stood, putting more weight on his cane than Draco remembered him doing as a boy. Age had slowed all of them down. "Say goodbye to your mother before we leave, Draco."

Draco sighed as he followed his father out into the hall and away from his office. "Yes, Father."

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><p>April 3, 2030<p>

10:22 a.m.

"Do you, Scorpius Eitan, take Rose Carina to be your bonded mate and wedded wife, to love, honor, and cherish, in sickness and health, through times of happiness and travail, until death do you part?"

"I do."

He had the underlying itch to turn his head and look at her for perhaps the fortieth time in the past ten minutes alone, but withheld, feeling the uneasiness grow in the blonde woman beside him. He grabbed Astoria's hand and pecked her on the cheek to reassure her. She gave a watery smile as she dabbed at her eyes with a handkerchief before looking forward to watch their son make the best decision of his life.

Surprisingly, she had given her blessing almost as quickly as he had and he loved her all the more for it.

Over the years, he had come to grow incredibly fond of Astoria and was glad that she had become his companion in life because of the good woman that he had increasingly found her to be. It almost pained him to think how selfish he had been in their youth to think of her has vapid and shallow. She had loved her pretty things, to be sure, but she had loved their son even more and he thanked her every day for it. Together, they were able to raise a wonderful and intelligent young man who held no bigotry and did not suffer the ignorance that Draco had.

He gave in and looked over very briefly to catch her wiping a tear from her eye and took in the beautiful soft smile she held. Her hair had a few more grays wisped through the deep brown curls than she had in her youth, but Draco swore to Merlin she still looked as incredibly beautiful as she had all those years ago.

As she always could, she sensed his gaze and turned and the way her eyes softened made his breath catch. He felt like he was twenty-one again and confessing his love to the gorgeous brunette once more.

"And do you, Rose Carina, take Scorpius Eitan to be your bonded mate and wedded husband, to love, honor, and cherish, in sickness and health, through times of happiness and travail until death do you part?"

"I do."

Twenty-eight years had gone by and she could still see and decipher the emotions swirling through his gaze as clearly as if it were just yesterday that they were last together. Almost no time had passed it seemed.

She had only seen him a handful of times since she married Ron all those years ago, almost always in a public place that never allowed them anything other than a significant look or a polite nod and greeting – but that was the way it always had to be. Anything other than what they allowed themselves in passing and she was fearful that her heart would attach itself solely to Draco again and her marriage and family would suffer for her selfishness. Not only could she never do something like that to Ron, but she could never introduce that type of stress and heartache to Rose and Hugo. She had promised herself the moment she'd first found out she was pregnant that their lives would be filled with happiness in the carefree way that hers had never been.

There had been no dark lords for them to defeat and no wars for them to fight, but she had also ensured that there were no wounded hearts that they needed to heal – at least not from the cause of her. What life threw at them when they grew older was up to the fates, but their childhood and formative years were up to her and Ron and she'd be damned before she let them down.

She had accepted long ago that everything she ever wanted in life—or even things she had never even known she'd wanted like the blond sitting across the aisle holding his wife's hand—would never come to fruition and she'd made her peace with that, because sitting here and watching her daughter marry the love of her life and seeing the incredible joy emanating from Rose's eyes was entirely worth it.

"Then I declare you to be bonded for life. You may now kiss your bride."

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><p>3 Hours Later<p>

Hermione exited the stall and made her way over to the sink, rubbing her hands furiously with the cherry almond-scented soap before staying her hands, letting the cool water flow through her fingers. She was infinitely grateful that the bathroom was currently empty of any wedding guests as she felt the oncoming of tears cloud her vision. She quickly shut the faucet off and grabbed a few napkins to dry her hands before dabbing at her eyes, careful not to mess up her make-up.

He had been dancing to some waltz with Astoria and the carefree and happy look on her face and the laughter in her eyes as he spun her about did wonders at breaking the carefully mended stitches of Hermione's heart.

For years she had suppressed thoughts of him and had therefore almost forgotten that lightness in his eyes and easy grin that had never failed at causing her breath to catch. For a moment, because those really were the only things she allowed herself, stolen moments where she let her thoughts wander, she had imagined it her he was twirling and holding lightly with such ease that only long term love and commitment could bring.

And even though she had tried to force it down, once again flashes in her mind of what their life would have been like ran unbidden in her thoughts and she had turned quickly and walked out of the ballroom, heading straight for the bathroom down the second corridor as she knew it would be free of guests mingling and wandering about as it was not the nearest loo available. Twenty-eight years but the Manor had not changed and she still knew her way around.

She had been too careful throughout the years to be so weak as to allow someone catch her tearing up over watching Draco Malfoy dance with his wife. She took a deep breath, allowed herself to relax and walked out of the bathroom only to be caught off-guard for perhaps the twentieth time that day by the handsome blond.

"You look beautiful, angel."

She gasped and whipped her head to the left and her expression softened at his relaxed form leaning against the wall and the easiness in his smile. "Draco," she said softly around a sigh.

They stared at each other for what seemed like hours, though it could have been no more than only a few seconds, before she became aware of her surroundings and looked around them to thankfully find the hallway clear.

"No one saw you leave, love, and we shouldn't be bothered. At least not for the next few minutes." He walked towards her and brushed away the tear that had fallen onto her cheek. "But surely," he began softly, "you didn't think it would escape my notice. It's been a long time but I still know you better than anyone. It's a strange thing, but if you were ever within at least a mile-radius, I could always sense your tears.

Hermione gave a watery laugh as she turned her head into his open palm on her cheek and brushed her face against his cool fingers, shutting her eyes softly. "I remember."

"Happy, love?"

Without pause, Hermione nodded her head before opening her eyes and smiling at him brightly. "They got what we didn't and I'll never be sad about that."

Draco grinned. "She will make him very happy."

"As he will her. I'm very proud of them."

At that second, they heard footsteps round the corner and both paused, rigid as stone, before Ginny appeared. Draco lifted an eyebrow as he saw Hermione visibly relax before she smiled at her red-haired friend. Surely it wouldn't be good for anyone to catch them, no matter how good a friend. Why was she so unworried?

"Hey, you guys. Hermione, Ron's looking for you."

"Thanks, Gin," Hermione said before turning back to Draco as Ginny turned and walked away.

"She knows," he said simply.

Hermione nodded. "She knows I would never do anything to hurt her brother, but she also knows that a piece of my heart would always lie with you. She's Ginny, she's amazing. She accepted." She shrugged a shoulder.

He would be lying if he said he wasn't shocked – Astoria had always known but even she wouldn't be so casual if she were to walk in on him and Hermione right now. He had to hand it to the Weasley-girl and thanked the stars his Hermione had such a friend in Potter's wife.

"I should go."

He nodded before leaning forward and placing his lips softly against her forehead. "I love you."

Hermione smiled and cupped his cheek in her hand, rubbing her thumb across his smooth skin as she leaned up and kissed him softly on the other cheek. "I love you too, Draco." She gave him one last soft smile before stepping around him and walking back towards the ballroom.

Just before she rounded the corner, he called out to her a last time. "Angel."

She turned around. "Yes?"

"Thank you. For her name."

Twenty-eight years ago when they'd been together and happy and planning for their future, _Carina_ had been in their minds and they had unofficially decided that that would be their daughter's name. She hadn't forgotten.

And neither had he.

Hermione grinned. "How could I not?" she asked as she gave him a knowing smile, because _Eitan_ would have been their son's name.

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><p>AN: A scene between our two star-crossed lovers at Scorpius and Rose's wedding had been in my mind for a long time—since I published the first part, actually—but I had never been able to work it out. Then the first scene between Draco and Lucius popped in my mind, and thus the long awaited epilogue that I'd been wanting to write was born. I hope you enjoyed it and thank you so much for reading. Please review if you're able!

Oh, I've been reading far too much Dramione the past however-many years to figure out where I got _Carina_ as their daughter's name, but to whoever you are, thank you. It's a beautiful name and fits perfectly. _Eitan_ took some research, but I felt like it fit with Scorpius. (Yes, I know Scorpius's canon middle name is Hyperion but I wanted to change it since I didn't think Hermione would want to name her son Hyperion. And I liked _Eitan_. And the whole premise of this story isn't canon, so your point is moot.)


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